Spider-Son & Iron Dad one shots

He Held On

⚠️TW: Major Character Death Aftermath, Grief, drowning metaphors(?)⚠️

a/n: in which "Peter gets comforted by Steve Rogers at Tony's funeral" is written in my notes.

After the battle, and before the battle, there was nothing. So it made undeniable sense for there to be nothing now.

How had he lost so much, in so little time? Everything had been right in front of him, so close that it was able to reach out and pull him into a bone-crushing hug, and now what was left of it was floating down a river of a house he's never seen.

The last time he wore a suit for something like this, it was years ago, when Peter couldn't look down at his own hands without seeing Ben's blood and two pinpricks of a spider's bite on his wrist, both feeling heavy with the weight of responsibility.

Peter did his best to avoid formal occasions and suits, because ties were uncomfortable and itchy on his neck. They were suffocating, really, for a variety of reasons, several of them being the fact that their fabric was always soaked with rain and tears, weighing him down until there was just—

Nothing.

It was painful how the loss of something meant everything, how absence filled more space than anything in the world. Grief was like drowning in a lake surrounded by swim-rings, Peter thought. People shouting at him to grab on, only to find that his arms were quite weak and his vision was going dark. It was taking that desperate breath beneath the water after his lungs couldn't fight anymore, the relief and misery and desperation all rolled into one to create—

Nothing.

Peter felt a hand on his shoulder, gentle and supportive, but lost. A dying sting was left under May's touch, fueling an emotion that Peter couldn't name.

She didn't know Mr. Stark. Not like Peter did. Lots of people here didn't know Mr. Stark like Peter did, many of them Peter had never seen before, some Peter had only met once in battle. And there was something so infuriating about that, the knowledge that people knew Tony Stark in a variety of different ways, and none of them were the way Peter knew him. With this revelation, Peter understood for not the first time how alone he was in the world.

There was a little girl stood at the front of the pier, who looked so much like Mr. Stark that it made Peter sick to his stomach. She held tightly on to Pepper's hand, and though Peter couldn't see her face, he could hear her pounding heartbeat, and he knew. Nobody told him that she... but he knew.

Peter didn't deserve to relate to the little girl, he knew that. He's known the grief of losing a parent before, and this— Mr. Stark wasn't his dad. He didn't deserve to say anything other than that. Maybe in another universe, Mr. Stark would have formally introduced them. Maybe Peter would have babysat on occasion. Maybe anything but this could have been real.

When the ceremony was done, people dispersed in their own ways. Peter managed to disappear from May's side in his attempt to get some space, to take a breather from all of the weight as it piled up on his throat. He took his refuge sitting by the river, staring at the floral arrangement set up on the pier. Across the distance he could see Happy talking to the little girl—Morgan, he remembered. Tony's daughter is named Morgan.

"Sorry to interrupt," Steve says quietly behind him.

Peter blinks quickly, sniffling as he turns around. "No, you're— I didn't mean to take up a space, I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize." Steve takes a seat beside him. "Peter, right?"

"You know my name?"

Steve nods. "Tony had... he mentioned you, a few times."

"He did?" Peter's voice cracks without him wanting it too, and another brick settles itself on his throat. "He never told— I mean, he never got the chance to..."

"I understand what you mean," Steve assures him. He gives him a sorrowful expression, something deep like regret, or shame in his eyes. "I'm sorry it had to turn out like this, Peter."

"Please don't." Peter shakes his head, his voice wavering with sternness and exhaustion. "I've already had this conversation so many times, Mr. Rogers, I'd really rather you didn't. I know you're just trying to help, but I just—Please."

Steve seems to pause his words there, nodding at Peter's request and going back into the easy silence between them. The river's waters are gentle in their humming and creaking.

"He was a hero," Peter murmurs. "I've looked up to him since I was a kid. I keep thinking how things could've gone if..."

"If?"

"I keep thinking of how things should've gone," Peter settles on, the words making a tiny chip in the brickweight. "Without Thanos. Or with Thanos, but at least without—"

Peter sighs shakily, gesturing around the grim surroundings. "Without any of this. None of this should've happened."

"But it did," Steve says firmly. "And I know how hard it is to accept this much loss. I feel it every day, believe me. Which is why you have to hold on to the things you have, when you have them... and learn to let go when you don't."

Peter let's his words tumble around in his head, trying to find something to argue with. He ends up with nothing yet again, leaving him with more exhaustion than before.

"What have you lost?" He asks instead.

"100 years," Steve answers. "Amongst other things."

"Right." Peter glances up at him, frowning. "Have—Have you let go of it?"

Steve goes quiet at the question, his eyes unfocusing as he stares into the water blankly. He opens his mouth to reply, but another voice sounds from behind that causes them both to turn around.

"Steve," Bucky speaks up. "You ready to go?"

Steve hesitates and nods. He looks over at Peter and gives him a sad smile. "Hang in there, kid."

They leave the funeral together, and Peter looks back at the river until May urges him an hour or so later to say his goodbyes. Most everyone has left by now, leaving only Mr. Stark's closest family and friends on the property.

Peter doesn't know what the future brings— and he doesn't know if he'll ever really be the same after this. But he's holding on, and that's that matters most.

Before he leaves the Stark household, he gets a tug on the sleeve of his coat. He turns around to meet a figure that comes up to his waist— and just as he turns, Morgan gives him a tight hug.

Peter feels his heart stop in that moment, and he slowly kneels down to her height and hugs her back. Carefully, just loud enough, he can hear her whisper something just for his ears.

"Daddy told me that we were his superheroes," she says, her chin digging into his shoulder. "He also says you like hugs."

Peter held his breath as to not start crying on the spot, and instead nods over her shoulder. "He was right," he chokes out. "Thank you for the hug."

Morgan didn't pull away from him— and so he held on.

He held on.

hey party bus get ready for an anniversary oneshot posted in a few hours 👁👁